Prison Call Interuptus
by EternalCullen
Summary: Rose and Dimitri One-shot. What if the call from Dimitri's contact allowing them to see Victor Dashkov came a little later?


The ownership of all characters related to and involving the novels of _The Vampire Academy_ and _Bloodlines_ Series remain the sole property of Richelle Mead, the Penguin Group and any affiliates.

No copyrights have been infringed on maliciously.

A/n: First and foremost, thank you to everyone that took the time to read, review, favourite and follow _The Unexpected Expected_ – I truly appreciate every kind word. Just for future reference, as I didn't make it clear at the beginning of my first V.A. FF, all of the one-shots will be from Dimitri's p.o.v.

This FF is not as light-hearted as _The Unexpected Expected_. It's Dimitri in full-brood mode and based on actual book events not my own Romitri fantasies (well, just a little bit of fantasy). I will try to alternate what I post to keep things interesting. Enjoy!

Rose and Dimitri One-shot

~ Prison Call Interuptus ~

Pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration as my lack of concentration continued to make a mockery of accomplishing the simplest of tasks, I closed the book I was trying very badly to read and set it down gently beside me on the black leather couch; careful not to further damage the already dogged-eared novel, knowing that if I continued to try and read it, the words on the pages would only continue to aggravate me.

Once, they had held the solace of escapism: a sanctuary of sorts for me as both an adult and as a child, but at the moment, not even the writings of Louis L'Amour could distract me.

Lacing my fingers behind my head, I stretched my legs out fully across the white Mohair carpet beneath me, crossing them at the ankles as I sighed. Tilting my head back, I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing as I tried to regain composure and control, but I knew I was fooling myself. My equilibrium had been forever altered since that night in the Portland Alley and there was very little I had been able to do to right it…I didn't know if I would ever truly regain it.

Being in this place, so close to the incarcerated Victor Dashkov, wasn't helping any. I could almost taste the smug superiority and the reckless lack of remorse that seemed to make up so much of his personality and it enraged me to the point of physical violence, but it was not simply the knowledge that he had placed in danger the lives of those I cared about that was the current cause of my unrest. Adrian Ivashkov's interference compounded my already lingering strife as he shamelessly manipulated his great-aunt, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Tatiana's, favouritism towards him. It had been his influence, as he used her favour for him as leverage, that had ultimately gained him access to the trial, allowing Rose, Lissa and Christian to attend, and whilst that in itself would have infuriated me, it was neither his meddling nor Victor's callousness that was the true bone of contention for me…that blame lay squarely at Rose's door.

I knew that it was unfair to blame her for the current state of my mood, yet she _was_ the direct cause of it and if I was honest with myself when I could not be honest with anyone else, she had been the source since the moment we had met, but this time it was different because it was not her irritation towards me for my insistence on what she would never agree with, her taunting, teasing manner when she decided that I needed to be taken down a peg or two or even the joy that she tried to repress but never could as I revealed yet more of the heart that she already owned, that had created the discord within me…no, the fault of that was her disappointment.

Disappointment was a part of life; an infuriating part, but a part that was nevertheless inevitable. You could go through your entire existence trying your best to appease and please those you were surrounded by, but at some point, there would come a time when it would fail. Generally when it happened, you accepted it with as much good grace as possible, learnt from it so that it never happened again and moved on with life, but when you disappointed the last person on earth that you could ever imagine failing in any way, it was not something you simply recovered from.

Rose's disillusionment with me over what she viewed as my uncooperative stance in getting her to Court for Victor's trial rankled deeply within me. It was an argument between us that had raised its ugly head time and time again since Alberta had inadvertently let slip the information on the morning I had found her shivering outside the novice dormitory. At the time, I had been all but ready to muzzle Alberta, but she had been none the wiser that the conversation she had with me was being overheard by someone who shouldn't have been there in the first place. The irony of the situation had been that in protecting Rose from being caught breaking a rule she was notorious for, I had exposed her to what I would have preferred she never know…so which one had been the lessor of two evils? Protect or expose?

Our last quarrel over it had had ruined what had been, up until that point, a day that I had enjoyed simply because it had meant spending it with her. The loss of my day off to assist in the community service I had felt was unfairly appointed to her in the wake of the Alto/Ozera incident was not something I regretted; in fact I had volunteered my services to help her clean the Church without hesitation. The opportunity to spend time with Rose in an environment where I wasn't under constant scrutiny and didn't have to check myself every time I simply wanted to look at her had been too good to pass up, but with the good of my intentions inevitably came the bad of those consequences.

When the subject had once again flared to bitter life, the angry recriminations and resentments had followed, refusing to burn out naturally as Rose's dogged nature would not allow them. The fight that had shadowed her accusations had stung, but it had been the questioning of my purpose that had truly cut deeply into me. Implying that I had ulterior motives…that my reason's for staying with her had been less than noble or pure and that I didn't trust her to carry out a simple task without finding a loophole for mischief had been uncalled for, especially as I would have thought that it was more than obvious that my reason for remaining was because _she_ was there.

After what had happened three weeks ago – after the frantic anguish and almost crippling grief of thinking that I had lost her for good when she and the others had been captured and tormented for days by the roving band of Strigoi holed up in Spokane, after thinking that I would still lose her as the trauma stole a part of her that she would never recover and after telling her without ever daring to say the actually words, that I had turned down Tasha's offer because she and she alone owned my heart and always would – how could she still doubt me?

Yes, I had been the one constantly reminding her that our relationship could never be anything more than strictly professional, no matter how strongly either of us felt, but to still be so unaware of my longing for her…of my yearning for her even after I had bared my soul in the storeroom, was almost inconceivable and it made me sad in ways that I had been taught to ruthlessly dismiss since childhood.

The souring of those hours had been a tipping point…one that had been particularly hard on me as I fell from the high of my contentment and landed with a thud as reality had set in. It was now the reason that I sat brooding in guest housing, unable to concentrate on a book that had always been a welcome diversion, wondering how I would ever be able to fix the yawning rift that now separated us. In a way, I should have felt grateful that the air of discontent between us was so thick with conflict, but I wasn't and it left me feeling drained and defeated.

An unexpected pounding on my door – urgent and flustered – diverted my attention away from my glum contemplation as my lids lifted from over my eyes and I turned my head towards the sound, frowning at the interruption. Padding to the door as I fought against the weakening sentimentality I could feel overpowering my judgement, I felt a small surge of curiosity as to who was at my door. The others knew that if I wanted to socialise, I would and generally left me to myself. Alberta never pushed for me to present when she knew that I didn't want to be.

Turning the handle of the door; expecting to find a Guardian or messenger of sorts, the last person I expected to see on the other side of it was the very person I had been lamenting about and it knocked me slightly off balance for a second. It was as if she was my own personal torment…as if thinking about her had not cost me enough, I now had to have the torment of her presence in the form of flesh and blood standing less than a foot away from me.

With the skin over her cheekbones and the tip of her nose a delicate shade of pink and her wildly untameable hair a tangled, windblown mess that fell around her shoulders in disarray, it was clear she had been outside and exposed to the harsh coldness of the elements, but why she was now here was a mystery that in my present state of mind, I could not fathom. Since arriving at Court, we had all parted ways and headed to our respectively assigned rooms, where I had stayed; a decision that had been deliberate on my part as a conscious effort to protect myself whilst avoiding her as I tried to rebuild the defences that Rose seemed to wreck with such ease, but seeing her now, I realised that no amount of time away from her would be fast enough to guard against her.

If it had only been the fight that stood between us now, I could have tried to keep my resolve to remain detached, but it was not only the words that could not be taken back that was now the reason for my unease but the reminder of another occasion when Rose had appeared unannounced at my door and demanded entry…and the consequences that had followed my decision to allow it.

The visceral memory of that night was not something that I had been able to forget or merely push aside, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I told myself that it was wrong or ordered myself to simply forget it. It invaded my conscious; awake or asleep and it was usually only utter exhaustion that allowed me to sleep without the memory playing havoc with my body...and my heart.

The long-lasting effects of the lust charm that Victor Dashkov had so remorselessly inflicted on us on the night he had abducted Lissa had broken down the self-imposed barriers I had steadily built up in response to the undeniable undercurrent of attraction for Rose; one that was so potent, I had never before felt anything like it. It had destroyed, with ruthless efficiency; the wall I built against her…the wall that I had felt was fail-proof, but as it had crumbled, all it had proved was that my control was nothing more than an illusion; a pretence of what I expected of myself, whilst actually being unable to live up to it. Not even in my stupidly futile attempts to replace her with Natasha Ozera had I managed it rebuild it or keep her out.

Even now looking at her, the first thought that came to mind was the memory of that night…the feel of her silky skin beneath my fingertips, the scent of her breath as she panted into my mouth…the feel of her hands as they ran and clutched over the quivering muscles of my back, shoulders and neck…the feel of her nipples scrapping against my chest…it was enough to make my self-control flag under the clawing need for her even as I felt the need to keep building the wall that was now rickety, full of holes at best and on the verge of completely disintegrating.

Dismissing the episode as best I could and willing my body to behave itself, I felt curiosity and concern overtake my previous preoccupation. The expression of Rose's lovely face was a genuine look of disturbance and not one that signalled any kind of deliberate seduction or need to resurrect the same argument…it was also not something I was accustomed to seeing from her. She had a fearless sense of character that was unmatched by any other I had ever met. Meeting challenges head on, she dealt with every obstacle with a single-minded determination and was never afraid to sacrifice herself if that was what it took to defeat it.

I knew this about her, which was why seeing her anxiety now was so disturbing. Since the ordeal with the Strigoi in Spokane and dealing with Mason's death; the guilt of which I knew she held herself responsible for, her emotional and mental health had worried me. Physically, she was fine and had recovered from the minor injuries and burns within a week of our return to the Academy; putting on a brave face as she always did, but there was a very clear change in her. It was subtle and only those she allowed close enough to her could see it; the mood swings, the increased aggression, the over-reactions…they were all there now, far more notably than before and it scared me. She couldn't afford to be uncertain about anything, not as a Guardian; a moment's hesitation could not only kill her, but the Moroi she protected.

If the trauma from the attack had somehow altered her commitment or created uncertainty in her own abilities and confidence, it was something that needed to be addressed now. If the Guardian council believed she was a liability to any Moroi she would eventually be assigned to, they would not allow her to continue in the field-experience, effectively ensuring that she would not graduate. That wasn't something that I would ever allow, no matter how tenuous our relationship would ever become, not when she had worked this hard and had overcome so much; it wasn't fair to her.

Oblivious to my disturbed musings, Rose made her intentions clear as she rushed through her words, half expecting, I was sure, that I would shut the door in her face. "I have to talk to you." Her fear wasn't entirely unjustified. Having her alone with me in a room was a dangerous temptation, but no matter the risk, if she was concerned about something, I would never turn her away. I would never be deliberately cruel to her, not unless it was the best for her.

Moving aside as her tone very clearly matched her expression of unease, I scanned the hallway outside the room, but it was empty as I allowed her in. It was just before dinner and most would soon be heading for the dining halls. Walking past me without a second's hesitation, Rose handed me a single sheet of paper folded in two, but did not linger at my side to explain it or its origin, instead heading further into the room. As she moved past me, I caught a faint whiff of cloves and smoke and for a moment I had to control my reaction to it. She had obviously been around Adrian Ivashkov who I was certain would act as an impromptu guide to our small group as he flaunted the Queen's favour.

The surge of jealousy; irrational and unwelcome at the thought of him spending time with her when I could or would not, was something that I had no right to feel…something that I should not have let myself feel in the first place.

Closing the door quietly behind her as I watched Rose move to the centre of the room, I unfolded the paper and read the hand-written note, feeling the uncomfortable burn of jealously over something inconsequential intensify into an almost murderous rage.

 _Rose,_

 _I was so happy to hear about your arrival. I'm sure it'll make tomorrow's proceedings that much more entertaining. I've been curious for quite some time about how Vasilisa is doing, and your romantic escapades are always an amusing diversion. I can't wait to share them in the courtroom tomorrow._

 _Best,_

 _V. D._

Not quite believing that he would stoop to this level, but also somehow expecting it as it was exactly the kind of psychological warfare that Victor Dashkov specialised in, I closed my eyes briefly to control my reaction to it and re-read it a second time, memorizing the veiled threat before folding it in two again, the words disgusting me. To now so blatantly flaunt the power he had over us, was unacceptable even as a part of me rationalized that it was a last ditch attempt from a desperate man to manipulate and blackmail those who he had already injured.

Looking up at Rose, I could now so clearly see the worry and fear she felt and understood the reason she had sought me out. We had talked about the possibility of this before, but I had deliberately down-played the severity of the situation, not wanting her to feel unnecessarily threatened by someone she already hated, but as that possibility was now a reality, I had no offers of solace to make to her and it made me angry…angry enough to commit what would be an atrocity in our world, because the concern and anxiety of exposure was not merely for herself, but for Lissa…and for me. Even now, when it was she who was threatened, she still wanted nothing more than to protect those she loved.

"V. D –" Rose uttered unnecessarily as she stood tensely beside the couch, as if she expected me to not know who it had come from. Those initials were ominous enough without having her voice his name…I didn't want her saying his name, it felt wrong, as though giving a voice to an evil that should never be spoken.

"Yeah, I know," I interrupted quickly as I walked towards her, handing the note back, though all I really felt like doing was burning it and somehow gaining some satisfaction from watching the paper turn to ash, as though I was eradicating him and not the note. "Victor Dashkov."

"What are we going to do?" she asked me, sounding very unsure of herself. This was yet another sign of the anxiety plaguing her – anxiety that she did not need to deal with after everything else – at Victor's hands and it only further incensed me. "I mean, we talked about this," Rose continued, tucking her hands beneath her armpits as she shook her head at me in disbelief and agitation. "But now he really is saying he's going to sell us out."

Not wanting to give further credence to her concerns and hating that she was this worried about something that could have been prevented, I mulled it over for myself rather than voice them, dissecting the potentially perilous situation until I could neutralise all aspects of it. If he did try to use this against us as some sort of leverage, there was simply no proof that any of it had occurred.

It was his word – a man accused of kidnapping and endangering the life of an underage Royal Moroi, influencing his own daughter to become Strigoi; a despicable act that should have warranted execution there and then, obstructing Guardians in their duty to protect and deliberately setting Psi-hounds loose – against those of a Princess, senior Guardians well respected within the Moroi world, a Dhampir novice and another Royal Moroi who would all testify to the same heinous deeds, so the likelihood of that being used as a credible dismissal was unlikely, Royal or not.

In fact, the entire thing seemed contrived, like he knew that the actions we would take against his threat of exposure wasn't really what he wanted at all.

Frowning, I tried to view it differently, from his perspective as much as it galled me to do so. He must know that nothing to his benefit would come from deliberately baiting us, so why was he doing it? Some perverse sense of satisfaction? None of it made sense…and that was what made me edgy. The only way to know for sure was to ask him directly. It was what I had been hoping to avoid, as it would mean taking Rose with me; there was no way she would simply wait for me to return, but I didn't want her anywhere near that man.

Hating to call in personal favours, especially those where the favour was of a friend not directly involved, but knowing that I now had no other choice, I dug my hand into my pocket and fished out my cell phone, scrolling quickly through the list of names until I found the number for Illiya Kirillov.

Calling, I looked over to Rose as I waited for it to dial. She looked at me with an expression born of impatience and apprehension. Knowing that she would not understand the conversation, I asked her to be as patient as she could whilst I explained the situation and asked for help…which wasn't saying much, as this was Rose I was dealing with. "Give me a moment."

Watching as she prowled restlessly around the room, Rose headed towards the bed, but made a sharp detour and instead sat in the exact spot I had just vacated on the couch, sitting back and sighing heavily as she lost herself to her own thoughts. I didn't question the choice of the couch over the bed, not when I knew exactly why she had done it.

" _Dimitri, moy boy. How ty?"_

I smiled at the greeting as the call was answered, despite the tension I could feel mounting in the room. Answering him in kind, I indulged in a bit of small talk about his family and work before I asked my favour. Illiya Kirillov, a former instructor from St Basils, was now part of the committee that oversaw the placement of Guardians as prison guards here at Court as well as Tarasov; if there was anyone that could grant me access to one of the most heavily guarded facilities in the Moroi world, it was Illiya.

Ending the call a few minutes later with Illiya confused as to why I would want to talk to a man that was all but already sentenced, but nonetheless promising to figuratively twist a few arms in an effort to grant us the clearance we needed, I pocketed the phone and turned my attention back to Rose. Looking at me expectantly, in much the same way she always had when she was certain I could accomplish anything, she shifted on the couch, crossing her legs and turning slightly towards me a she asked. "What's going on?"

 _Waiting_ was what was going on; something that I knew would not sit well with either of us; Rose hated inactivity as much as I did. We were both far happier to be actively pursuing, doing or acting even if it led to nothing more than false leads or dead ends.

"I'll let you know soon. For now, we have to wait."

Almost anticipating her reaction to this, I watched as her eyes rolled upwards and she shook her head in mild disgust, muttering beneath her breath. "Great. My favourite thing to do." The reaction was enough to slightly lift my mood, but not enough to push aside the severity of the situation we now found ourselves in because we had been unable to fight against what neither of us secretly wanted to deny.

Echoing her frustration with the waiting, I briefly contemplated sitting with her on the couch, but I needed distance and the perspective that came with the distance and I would find neither of them if I was close enough to touch her, feel her warmth or smell her scent. Heading for safer territory, I grabbed one of the matching armchairs and dragged it over, setting it opposite her as I lowered my frame into it, ignoring the twinge of discomfort as the angles of the furniture did not conform to my height, but most didn't, so I had learnt to live with it; being over six-and-a-half feet tall had its drawbacks.

Running her fingers through her tangled hair as she exhaled in frustration; both at the rebellious nature of her locks and having to sit around and rely on what others could do, Rose looked to her right, perhaps searching for a distraction and smiled as she found one. Picking up the book I had abandoned earlier, she read the title, flipped it over and read the synopses, her smile growing wider by the second as she noted the well-worn condition of the paperback. The amused expression relaxed the tensed features of her beautiful face and for that I was glad, however the smirk of mild condescension beneath it made me narrow my eyes at her. Turning it over once more in her hands, as if it were a puzzle she could not understand, Rose instead asked as she focused her gaze on me.

"Why do you read these?"

The world of literature was not for Rose, this I already knew. She preferred to make her own history rather than to read about it in a second-hand account; a fact that was reflected in her grades, but as she had pointed out to me once before when I had commented on her knowledge, or lack thereof, of noteworthy battles, Guardian's needed to be silent and ruthlessly effective, not historians or Nobel Laureates. It wasn't that she wasn't smart, but she had never seen the need to be well versed when it wouldn't help her to protect the girl she considered her sister…still, I couldn't help but point this out to her.

"Some people read books for fun," I commented dryly, keeping my face deadpanned as I waited for the reaction I was bound to get. If there was one thing that I had learnt about Rose Hathaway, it was that she never took a challenge lying down.

Arching a brow as her hackles stood on end at my less than subtle taunt, Rose shot back as she lightly tossed the book into the air and caught it again. "Hey, watch the dig. And I do read books. I read them to solve mysteries that threaten my best friend's life and sanity. I don't think reading this cowboy stuff is really saving the world like I do."

Leaning forward to rescue the book before she further abused it, I rested my elbows and forearms over my thighs and turned it over in my hands in much the same way that she had earlier, thinking through my answer to her question. Ivan had once asked me the same question. He had never understood the desire I had as a child to find a means of knowing there was justice in the world and that there were still men who upheld it. Yes, it had only been on the pages of worn, yellowed books, but it had given me a sense of right and wrong…of honour and sacrifice. In his world; a world of privilege and wealth, honour and sacrifice were not words that were valued. He had never known what it had meant to protect what you loved with your bare hands and I had never expected him to understand it.

"Like any book, it's an escape. And there's something…mmm. I don't know. Something appealing about the Old West. No rules. Everyone just lives by their own code. You don't have to be tied down by others' ideas of right or wrong in order to bring justice."

I was silent for a few moments after my answer, almost surprised at the response I had given Rose. Rules, regulations, set of laws, whatever you wanted to call them, were needed to maintain order and discipline amongst the ranks, that much had been proven through history, but when those rules came into direct conflict of a personal belief, it no longer seemed as important. The thought was a dangerous one, but one that I was becoming increasingly aware of, not just because it was becoming a conflict of interest for me, but because it directly involved Rose. The rules that kept us apart…the duty that made us aware that we had to _stay_ apart, no longer seemed as ironclad as they had before. I didn't feel the need to flout them; not directly at any rate, but the control of others was beginning to chafe.

Rose laughed at my response, apparently not appreciating or understanding really where my thoughts lay…or with whom, when explaining this, as my words stirred up her amusement. "Wait. I thought I was the one who wanted to break rules."

"I didn't say I wanted to," I countered wryly, knowing that she did just that on a regular basis. "Just that I can see the appeal." The irony of this was that since meeting her, I had already broken so many of my own rules, that following those set forth by others was all I had now.

Shaking her head in disagreement, her amusement remained as Rose called me on it. "You can't fool me, comrade. You want to put on a cowboy hat and keep lawless bank robbers in line."

"No time," I dryly refuted, though her teasing had buoyed my own spirits again. It was always the case with her…she never allowed me to wallow. "I have enough trouble keeping you in line."

Smirking at me as her eyes narrowed, the lines of Rose's face relaxed even further into real enjoyment as the ease of our former bantering returned. It felt like it had been a long time since we could be this comfortable or relaxed around each other without something getting in the way to create tension of any kind. The normal kind of tension – a mixture of unrequited desire and unvoiced love we had to hide from the others – was the kind that I had learnt to deal with as best as I could, but the other kind was far more difficult to stomach.

"I'm sorry." I apologized softly; wanting to make amends for something that I knew was beyond my control and at the same time, somehow repairing the rift that had been created between us by it. I had never before sought the opinions of others in regard to my abilities, but her faith in me had strengthened my own in ways I could never have imagined…or in ways that I now needed and they made me rethink everything I had ever known in my life; I never wanted to lose it.

"For what?" she queried with laughter in her voice, misunderstanding what it was I was apologizing for. "Reading cheesy novels?"

Ignoring the gibe at my choice in reading material, I shook my head slightly as I unconsciously leaned closer to her, setting down the book in question on the carpeted floor. "For not being able to get you here. I feel like I let you down."

Suddenly voicing my fears made them feel as though they had somehow been amplified and as with most things that were out in the open, they were impossible to take back. That fear, the fear of vulnerability, must have been reflected on my face as the expressionless façade I had been taught to maintain at all costs came into conflict around her. Knowing, as she always did…as she always _had_ , that this was a deep concern for me, the amusement from her face faded as a new expression took over; not one that I was entirely familiar with when associating with Rose. She almost looked…contrite.

Unfolding her legs, she leant forward in much the same way as I was now doing, clasping her hands together over her knees as she looked at me with what I now clearly recognized as regret in her eyes, almost on tenterhooks as to what she would say next – predictability with her was not a given nor was humility as a general rule. "You didn't. I acted like a total brat. You've never let me down before. You didn't let me down with this."

The sincerity of her words could not be denied as she reassured me that I had not failed her…that I had never failed her, that it was merely her own expectations that had let her down and the elation that came with those words left me momentarily speechless. Reaching forward instead, I covered her intertwined hands with my own and bending over them, pressed a gentle kiss to the knuckles, murmuring against them softly as I eventually found my voice. "Thank you. Those words shouldn't mean anything to me…I can't allow them to mean anything to me, but they do. They mean everything, Roza."

Shivering against my hold at my declaration, I looked at her over our clasping hands and smiled gently in gratitude. There was no more to say really, she would understand perfectly; she always did. Stroking my thumbs over her knuckles as our gazes remained locked and intense, I thought back to the last time I had touched her…not a touch of instruction, not a touch of comfort or even a touch of concern, but a touch of hunger; a hunger almost too powerful and all-consuming to hide. The kiss in the storeroom three weeks ago had been an out-pouring of emotion and gratitude that she was still alive and that I could, for however briefly, hold her in my arms, but this was something entirely different.

Slipping her own thumbs upwards so that they stroked over the centre of my palms with trails of fire that made me shiver in much the same way she had, Rose nodded once at my declaration before she sighed quietly and bowed her head slightly, looking as though she was about to say something that was unpleasant.

"There's something else that I have to apologize for…and this is in advance."

Frowning, I tried to think about what she should have to be sorry for, especially as through her words, it hadn't happened yet. Not wanting her to feel unnecessarily guilty, I deliberately lightened the mood, not wanting the moment to be ruined. "Two apologies in one day…well, sort of. This must be a record for you, Rose." Smiling at her, but refusing to release her hands, I waited for her response and was not disappointed as her expression of remorse transformed into her normal sarcastic taunting.

"Are you going to let me apologize, comrade, or should I come back when you and your Siberian sense of humour have calmed the hell down?"

Laughing outright before I could stop myself, I shook my head at her snarky response, enjoying for a change, pushing her buttons as she so regularly pushed mine. "No. I'll be on my best behaviour, I promise. Please, continue."

As her attitude slowly drained away, I became aware that this was more difficult for her to say than anything else she had said so far and instantly gave her all my attention. "When you testify at the trial tomorrow, you're going to have to lie; to perjure yourself under oath to protect us…to protect _me_ and I know how much that's going to hurt you. How much it's going to cost you to go against everything that you believe in and that's my fault. I'm so sorry, Dimitri, that because of me, you're being forced to do that."

Looking at me in much the same way as I had when I was apologizing; as though she had committed some grave injustice that could never be atoned for, I felt suddenly overwhelmed with not only understanding, but love.

Shifting forward and off the armchair in a single movement, I sunk to my knees before her, leaning down to rest my forehead against her own as I sighed; the strands of my hair that refused to remain tied back falling forward. "Roza…my Roza. In life, we have to make decisions. Some are good, some are bad; this you already know, but at the time that we make them, the only way forward is to sometimes do what feels wrong instead of right. What happened that night was not in our control. Yes, it played on something that was already there, but the charm was so much stronger than either of us could fight against. When I testify at the trial that it was an attacking charm and not a lust charm, the bare facts will still be the same even if the little details are not the truth. They're only going to be interested in knowing that the facts of all our testimonies are corroborated, but thank you for the apology anyway. It won't be easy for me to lie under oath, that much you already know, but it's a decision that I've already made."

Raising our joined hands to my chest with my left to hold them against my heart; trying to once again remind her that it was hers, I brushed back the tangled curls with my right, smiling as she turned towards the caress. "Protecting you is not my duty, Roza…at least; it's not the one that my head tells me I have to uphold or even the one that I was officially appointed. This is one that my heart tells me I should uphold, and although others would consider what happened as wrong, I no longer agree with them."

Kissing her forehead, I let my lips linger there for dangerous moments, afraid to let them move, as they would automatically head south towards territory I dared not encroach on, waiting for her response.

"I know you're just saying that, comrade," she finally answered a few moments later, almost curling into my chest as I heard her trying to stifle the emotion my words had conjured. "I know that once you're up there, that's not going to make much difference to you. I just wanted you to know that I understand what you're going to go through and that I appreciate what you're doing…and that I'm here if you want to talk. I know that you're as vocal as I am when it comes to personal issues, but I'm still offering."

Appreciating the offer, even though she was right; neither of us willingly burdened others with our problems, I untangled my fingers from her hair and stroked the pads slowly over her cheekbone until my thumb rested at the corner of her mouth. Staring at me intently, Rose moved her head ever so slightly to the left so that the rough pad of my thumb now rested on her full bottom lip, but made no further move, waiting for me.

"Your lips are cold," I stated quietly, saying the obvious to distract myself from the cocoon of magnetism I could feel wrapping itself around us. "What were you doing outside?" The weather being what it was, it was surprising to find her anywhere but inside. Sleet, howling ice-laden winds and frigid temperatures would chase most indoors.

"Well, comrade, you could always warm them up, you know."

The quiet, seductive purr in her voice was enough to make my blood boil in my veins as it was almost a challenge that she was hoping I would answer, but I couldn't…not if Illiya came through for us and so I sent her an arched look instead, one that she would interpret as my _behave-yourself-Rose_ look.

Chuckling softly, Rose cleared her throat before she answered the second part of my question. "I wanted to explore a little and found Mia with Eddie and Christian. So we went for Coffee…well, I had Chai tea, met up with Lissa and Adrian and just hung out. We were talking about the last time that we had all been together and…we were all thinking about Mason I guess. It got a little too grim for me, so I headed outdoors for some fresh air, but the air was a little too fresh."

The sudden melancholy in her voices or the memory of Mason's death reflected in her eyes could not be denied, but there was something in her recount that she was keeping from me. I knew by the slight inflections in her voice that she was either deliberately leaving parts of her explanation out or that there was something else she was hiding from me, but I didn't push, knowing that if she wanted to tell me she would, so instead, I asked.

"How is Mia?"

Grinning so broadly that my thumb slipped off her lips, Rose shook her head slightly at my question, almost amused with her own reaction as she answered. "She's great…really, really great. Seems a lot happier, more balanced. Stronger, more self-reliant. She has a tan, actually looks her age for a change and has made friends with a couple of the Guardians here." Leaning forward, she whispered almost conspiratorially. "They're teaching her how to fight. Not in the open, of course, but whenever they can."

Arching my brows, I nodded in surprise and approval. It would take a long time before the Moroi world would accept that they had much to offer in the way of defending themselves against the Strigoi, but as with change in most things, it was the little movements that often made the most difference.

"You seem happy about this…happy to see her." The relationship between the two had not always been so harmonious, as evidenced by the fact that Rose had broken her nose on one occasion and threatened to do far worse on many more.

Shrugging, she tilted her head as her fingers wiggled from beneath my hand to spread over my chest, covering the heart that was now thumping faster than before. "I am. You were right about how when you lose someone that you love it's never easy. When her mom died, I think it was a turning point in her life – one that was positive…and also, she saved my life in that house. If she hadn't used water-magic on that aquarium, I might not be here right now."

Lowering my head to let her know that I understood, I spread my fingers over her own, holding them over my chest, not wanting to think about how close I had come to losing her. "It gets better, Rose. Every day you think of them less, you learn to live a little more and the pain that never really goes away gets easier to deal with until you barely notice it anymore. It becomes a part of you."

Guileless brown eyes met my own as she considered my words and heard the truth of them. Most would have thought I was referring to Mason, but it wasn't only him. "Do you still miss him? Ivan, I mean? Does every day feel a little better than the one before?"

"Yes. I wasn't there, but the guilt I feel over his death makes no difference. If we live our lives on _what ifs_ , all we do is cheat ourselves out of actually living, Roza. Mason wouldn't want that for you and Ivan wouldn't want that for me." Talking to Rose about the death of my former charge and friend, Ivan Zeklos had started out as a way of trying to identify with her that the loss of a friend could be overcome, but it had been more cathartic than I could have ever imagined. I had only spoken of him to a few others, but never in as much detail as with Rose.

Swallowing roughly, Rose's gaze dropped to the floor, consumed I could only imagine by my words about Mason. Returning my thumb to her lips again, I skimmed it gently over the plush curve, inhaling deeply as the familiar tug of desire for her threatened to overtake my good intentions. Thankfully, or perhaps not so much, my phone rang just as I could feel my resolve weakening as I found myself leaning towards her, pulled to her as the Moon was to the Earth. Chuckling against the smooth skin of her forehead as I dropped it to rest against hers again, I sighed in regret for the interruption, stroked across her lips just once more and then pulled away slightly, answering the call from Illiya, but never fully releasing Rose, who seemed as disinclined to part from me as I did from her.

Ending the call a few minutes later after expressing my profound gratitude for his assistance, I kissed her quickly on the forehead before I rose, pulling her up from the couch with me. "All right, let's go." I said as I headed to the chair the duster was over and slung it over my shoulders, not looking forward to this, but knowing we were at the bridge now and had no alternative but to cross it.

"Where?" Rose asked as she watched my movements with possessive eyes, folding her arms across her midriff as I approached her, wanting nothing more than to hold onto the moment we found ourselves in before it was tainted, but that now, was unavoidable.

"To see Victor Dashkov." Folding back the leather collar, I watched as those words reacted with her emotions.

Eyes widening at them, I had half expected apprehension, but there was no hesitation…no fear or indecision on her face as it set into a mask of determination. It was different from when she had walked in here and I knew that was because she no longer felt alone or uncertain. Experiencing the same sense of pride that I had always felt during the times when she was ready to take on the world, I walked back to her, lightly clasping her shoulders as my hands ran up and down her arms in comfort as I looked down at her with understanding and support.

"Remember, this is exactly what he wants, so don't give him the satisfaction of feeling as though he's somehow won because you're there. He's going to taunt you, especially about Lissa because he knows that it will elicit the most violent response from you and about us, so don't let him, Rose. Alright? We need to find out what it is he's up to and allowing him to get the better of you won't do that. I also want you to stay away from him. He can't do anything to you, but don't give him an opportunity to try."

Rose nodded resolutely at me and my warning, though I knew full well that once she actually saw Victor, she would fly right off the handles, I focused on my own control, ready to give it to her should she need it. We were stronger together; I knew this already, ready to face anything that stood in our way and deal with any of the consequences that came with it.

Resting my palm in the middle of her shoulder blades, I gently steered her towards the door as I briefly inhaled her intoxicating scent, drawing strength from her presence at my side. "Come on, Roza…let's go see what Victor wants."

~ The End ~


End file.
